Conversations
by A. Windsor
Summary: Follow-up to Frustrations, but totally stands alone. Some long overdue conversations finally happen in Callie's world as the baby's due date approaches.  Summer 2011


Title: Conversations

Author: A. Windsor

Pairing/Characters: Callie/Arizona

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. My one semester of law school could allow me to legalese this a little more, but it also tells me it's pretty useless. So please don't sue; it's not mine, I'm just playing!

Series: Zeq!verse, but totally stands alone.

Summary: Some long overdue conversations finally happen in Callie's world as the baby's due date approaches.

Author's Note: Follow-up to _Frustrations_. (But again, could easily stand alone.) Set in the now AU world of Zeq!verse. Beta'd by the wonderful, speedy, snarky roughian.

* * *

"Hey."

"Hey."

Mark's tone and face are neutral, and Callie offers a half smile while extending the mug of coffee.

"Can we talk?"

Mark opens the door with a wordless invitation.

"I want to apologize for last night," Callie says as she enters the apartment. She heads straight for couch, unable to be on her feet for long. "For the mean parts, at least. I'm sorry I lost my temper and went all crazy pregnant lady on you."

Mark takes a deep breath, but Callie surges on before they fall into their easy, forget-the-hard-stuff banter.

"At least, I'm sorry for the way I said things last night. I was harsh, and maybe a little cruel. But I'm not sorry for the general idea. Mark, I'm with Arizona."

"I know that!"

"I know you know that, but you don't respect it. I know you mean to and I know you want to, but you don't. She came back, and she stayed. We're a family. Arizona and I, and the baby."

Mark looks visibly stung in the chair across from her.

"And you're a family, you and the baby. And yes, we, all four of us, are going to be a family, too, but there're going to be boundaries."

"What are you saying, Cal?"

"That it's time to start talking about the real stuff. The grown up stuff, beyond baby clothes and tiny toys. It's time for you to have a crib and maybe even a changing table. And it's time for us to have a plan."

"A plan?"

"For custody."

He recoils at the word and gears up for a Mark-rant.

"You're not taking my kid from me!"

"Our kid. And no, of course not, Mark. Come on. Would I do that to you?"

"Everyone else has!"

"And I'm not everyone else! I've been pretty damn accommodating, especially considering what it's doing to my relationship."

"She left you, Callie. Homeless. In an airport. To fly across the world."

"That's not really the point here. This isn't about me and Arizona. It's about how we're going to live, day-to-day, all four of us. And it's not going to be under one roof, or with unlocked doors, pretending that this is some sort of polygamist's fantasy. This baby may be my dream, but that is not. I didn't just want a baby, Mark. I wanted a baby with Arizona."

"And where does that leave me?"

"A single dad."

"I don't wanna be a single dad," Mark whines petulantly. "I want Lexie to be in. If Arizona is in, why can't Lexie be?"

"Mark."

"Does that mean she doesn't love me? Or just that she doesn't love me enough? Or that Arizona Robbins is some kind of freaking saint that can do what no one else can and-"

"Mark," Callie says again, gently.

"We're all just fuck-ups, Cal. Why am I paying the price?"

Callie blows out a breath. If she weren't the size of a house, she'd be up and pacing to get her point across. She settles for glaring and finger-pointing.

"Stop wallowing. You're going to be a father any day now. If you want to be with Lexie, go be with Lexie. And if you can't, then pull it together and move on."

"That's easy for you to say; you have everything you could ever want. A baby with great genes that you don't have to fight for time with. The woman you love in your bed every night."

Callie puts her head in her hands. She really wishes that people would stop saying that, like she wanted all of this drama and headache. They're here, and they can't go back, but this would never have been her choice, to watch the two people dearest to her tear each other apart while the infant they will all have to share pushes painfully on her bladder.

"Maybe," she concedes to keep the tone as cordial as possible for now. "But do you want our son or daughter watching their father mope around for the rest of his life? I gave you an out, Mark, and you can still take it. I'll tell you what I told Arizona, though: if you're going to go, you have to go now. You're not bailing once this baby knows its daddy. I gave you an out, and it's not my fault that Lexie can't deal. You can't punish us for that; it's not fair."

He winces a little, and she backs up off the Mark-berating. Several months of complaints have been building up in her, but she has to be careful not to push too hard. Mark's a surprisingly delicate flower.

"I'm in. You know, I'm in. So, what kind of _custody_ agreement are we talking about here?"

"Every other weekend, and Wednesday evenings. More visits and family time as we all work out, but those are the times that no one can take him or her away from you. When you'll be in charge of everything about the baby."

"Why not fifty-fifty?"

"A kid needs stability, Mark. It's a standard custody agreement."

"Well, I don't like it."

"I'm trying to keep us out of court, Mark, but if you wanna make a big deal out of this, we can do it the hard way, but a court's probably not gonna give you more than that."

"Court?" Mark demands, jumping to his feet.

"Sit. Down."

Mark freezes and slowly settles back onto the couch, practically pouting.

"Have you been practicing your mommy-voice?"

"Yes. So stop acting like a child. I said I'm trying to do this without court, Mark. You're not listening."

"So four days a month? A few hours for dinner a week?"

"But he or she will be at the hospital day care, so you can see _her_ whenever you want, and even take _him_ out and have lunch with him some days."

"With your permission," Mark says bitterly.

"When it's our day, yes, after telling us. So we know where she is at all times."

"This would be a much less confusing conversation if you'd look at the damn gender."

"Mark." Callie takes in a huge breath. "You're gonna be a great dad. I know you'll be at every game or recital or parent-teacher conference. This kid is going to know his dad and be better for it. And it's not always going to be an either/or. Sometimes she'll get to hang out with her daddy and her mommies together. But I told you, from day one, that there was a line, and I have to enforce it, for all our sakes. So that Arizona and I can have a life together. So that _you_ can have a life, of any kind. You don't want to spend the rest of your days as a third wheel to me and Arizona, do you?"

The problem is, in that trio, he never thought _he_ was the third wheel.

"I want to make this work, Mark. Maybe it's selfish to want it all, but if I can have it, I want it, for me and the baby."

"I want a life, but I want it with Lexie."

"Then go get her. Figure out a middle ground."

"She doesn't want to be a mom."

"That's okay. We've got plenty of those to go around."

Mark cracks a smile at her quip, and some of the tension drains from the room.

"Are you and Robbins okay?"

"We will be," Callie says firmly, believing it completely. Their arguments and disagreements these days are taking them forward, instead of in circles, and that is more progress than she ever thought possible. "Oh, speaking of Arizona..."

Mark watches as the edges of her lips play up in a slight smile just at the mention of her girlfriend, and he can't stop the pang of jealousy.

"She said she'd help you put together your crib when you get it. Maybe you could get the same one we have? So that the baby will feel more comfortable when she's at Daddy's?"

Mark purses his lips and nods.

"I guess if he's gonna be sleeping here, I'm going to need a crib. He should feel like this is his home, too."

"Exactly," Callie beams.

"What, uh, what about the name?" Mark asks, bracing himself for another onslaught. "Why can't it be Sloan?"

Callie takes a few deep breaths and tries to lay this out as rationally as possible.

"This baby has three parents, Mark. And we're not hyphenating three times; this kid is going to be weird enough on the playground. And I'm doing all the work here, so this baby? This baby is a Torres. It's easiest, and fairest, and Arizona is so very strong, but I don't think she could pick up Baby Sloan from day care every day and keep her sanity."

Mark frowns. He doesn't love that last reason and really wants to tell Robbins just to deal, but he can sorta see the rest of Callie's argument.

"I want her to know she's mine. I want people to know she's mine."

Callie's big brown eyes soften, and Mark ponders for the first time who this baby will resemble. He knows Callie's features are probably dominant, and he'll likely be looking into miniature versions of those eyes for the rest of his life.

"I understand that," Callie acknowledges. "Arizona suggested Sloan as a middle name?"

Mark considers that, head to the side, rolling it around in his thoughts. That may be acceptable.

"Blondie suggested that, huh?"

Callie nods. "She's feeling a little more magnanimous than I am. It's a wonder she hasn't gotten any bricks yet."

Mark laughs a little, taking up the coffee she brought him for the first time since they sat down, pulling a long sip. Damn, Torres is good with a coffee machine.

"And he'll know he's yours, Mark," she continues more seriously, reaching a hand across to rest lightly on his arm. "He'll always know that, because we'll tell him that, and you'll be here to tell him that, every day."

Mark clears his throat. "Thanks."

Callie nods, looking at her watch. "We'll talk more about this later, okay? Maybe get someone to draw up some papers?"

"Lawyers," Mark makes a face. "We don't need those."

"We have to protect ourselves," Callie says, with a sadness Mark doesn't quite understand. "And the baby."

"Okay. Later, then. You look like you're in a hurry."

Callie holds her hand out for help up, which he willingly provides.

"You're not on today, right?"

"Nope. You shouldn't be either," he reproaches, half-teasing.

"Just getting on top of paperwork and checking in on patients. Don't worry; Arizona will be there to nag me."

"I'll order a crib, then."

She smiles and heads to the door. "Good. I'll text you the model info, if you want."

"Thanks. Dinner tonight?"

She shakes her head negatively, and the seriousness of her line drawing hits him hard. He tries his best not to pout this time.

"I have plans with Arizona," she says, opening the front door and grinning when she sees who is waiting in the hall for her. "Speak of the devil," she drawls lovingly.

Arizona gives her a little smile, looking to Mark behind her. Her expression is unreadable, scrutinizing, until Callie gives her a little nod, likely signifying that round one of custody talks went well. She then graces him with a mostly genuine smile (at least the most genuine one she's given him recently) as she threads her fingers through Callie's.

"Did you tell him about the crib?" she asks her girlfriend.

"He's ordering one today."

"Call me when it gets in, and I'll give you a hand."

"You doubting my prowess with tools, Robbins?" Mark calls as the mothers of his child head hand-in-hand down the hall.

Arizona looks back over her shoulder, just a hint of the playfulness they once shared in her voice.

"Not at all, Sloan. Just wouldn't want your pretty hands to get hurt in the effort."

* * *

"It's not his hands I'm worried about," Callie whispers into Arizona's ear as the elevator doors close behind them.

A sly grin spreads across Arizona's face.

"Don't start anything you can't finish, Calliope. You've banned me from all on-call room activities."

"I don't want to have to explain to anyone why we broke a bed," Callie grumbles.

Arizona rolls her eyes and leans over to kiss her cheek.

"Don't exaggerate."

"Sorry, baby. You, me, and Junior on the bunk bed just doesn't work anymore."

Arizona chuckles.

"Alright, kiddo, you need to get out of there so I can do dirty things in on-call rooms with your mom again," Arizona directs to Callie's stomach, her free hand patting it gently.

Callie freezes, even as the elevator doors open. Arizona moves forward but is held back by their conjoined hands. She looks back, brow wrinkled, as the doors close again.

"You've never done that before," Callie says vulnerably.

"Dirty things in on-call rooms? Oh, I most certainly-"

"No. Talked to the baby."

"Sure I have," Arizona laughs, moving to the door-open button.

"No," Callie says firmly, eyes watering with unshed hormonal tears. "Arizona, you haven't."

Arizona flushes, realization dawning in her eyes. She leans away far enough to pull the stop button and then inexplicably drops to her knees.

"Hey, little one," she says softly, with familiarity, eyes drifting up to meet Callie's through long lashes. "Wanna tell your mom all about what happens after she falls asleep?"

"Arizona..."

"We're not always as tired as she is, are we? That's your fault, by the way. What all have we discussed, hm? World news, definitely. You're still upset about the Japan thing, right? All those little boys and girls I met in Malawi, too. You like those stories. And Uncle Danny. Lots about him. He would be so excited right now." She presses a reverent kiss to Callie's swollen belly. "Sometimes you're up kicking for a long time, and that's when I have to tell you stories about dirty bar bathrooms and how your mom swept me off my feet."

"How often do you two talk?" Callie asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"Recently? Every night. The little one's been very active; I didn't want him or her to wake you."

"I—But. Arizona, why don't you do this when I'm awake?"

Arizona rests her forehead against the baby bump to avoid meeting Callie's eyes as she says this.

"I started doing it so I could say to him all the things I was scared to say to you. And then, it just sorta, became our thing? Something special, only we shared."

Callie reaches blindly below for any piece of her, trying to pull her to her feet.

"I thought... I thought you weren't bonding."

"Oh, there's plenty of bonding going on," Arizona says, using the elevator handrail to right herself. "That's the scary part."

Callie's hand on her cheek forces Arizona to make eye contact. Those blue eyes say it all, all the fears they've finally gotten around to talking about.

"You talking to the baby is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. So, for the next nine days? Never stop."

"Well, now you've made me self-conscious about it," Arizona huffs.

Callie gives her a plaintive look.

"Okay, I'll try," Arizona acquiesces as her pregnant and demanding girlfriend reaches around her to reset the elevator and open the door. She gets an appreciative smile as a reward, and their hands tangle back together.

"Thanks. So, world news?"

"Gotta keep the baby up-to-date on the world he's going to enter."

"Uncle Danny?" Callie asks, serious instead of teasing this time, squeezing her hand.

"Yeah. Uncle Danny. If that's o-"

"Shut up. Of course it's okay. Dirty bar bathrooms?"

"And a pretty girl crying at the mirror."

"You're painting a pretty pathetic picture of Mami here."

"Mami, hmm? I like it. And no, I told her that _Mami_ was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, runny mascara and all."

Callie leans over and presses a lingering kiss to Arizona's lips, expressing her gratitude for right now and for back then.

"I hope our baby gets your charm."

Arizona laughs, dropping their hands only to link their arms together.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

el fin


End file.
